


etchings

by silpium



Series: inktober 2017 [20]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: First Kiss, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 19:59:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12638127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silpium/pseuds/silpium
Summary: Invinciblerests over the center of Hinata's heart.Hinata stares at himself in the mirror, at the words carved in his chest. He presses his fingertips to it, pushes, as though the image will change; it doesn't.The font and styling is still the same, but there's something more elegant to this one that Hinata can't quite place. There's a cleanness to it. An emotion somehow resting in its inscription that makes Hinata's heart skip a beat.Invincible, he thinks, and wonders if this is the last mark Kageyama will leave on his heart.In which Hinata's most precious memories appear on his skin, and over time, Kageyama becomes exceedingly important to him.





	etchings

**Author's Note:**

> for inktober day #20, "deep."

It first happens when Hinata is five, a few months into kindergarten. He kind of hates kindergarten but loves it at the same time: identifying numbers and reading and all that stuff is so boring, but he loves being with all the other children, having someone to share all his boundless energy with.

He comes home one day with a word etched into his right shoulder in thin, black font: _friend_.

His mother smiles when she sees it. She grabs a washcloth to rub it off with, and as she scrubs it over the markings, she asks Hinata, “So how did your day go, dear?”

“I made a friend!” Hinata beams up at her, grin all toothy and wide, and his mother matches him. “His name’s Izumi! He’s real nice—he gave me some of his crayons ‘cause I didn’t have some of the colors I wanted.”

“That’s wonderful, Shouyou. I’m glad to hear it,” she tells him as she removes the cloth from his skin. The mark is still there, all the starker against Hinata’s reddened skin, and she frowns. “Did you two draw on yourselves?”

“Nope,” Hinata answers, popping the ‘p.’

“What’s up with your shoulder, then, dear?”

“Oh, I dunno!” Hinata tilts his head to the side quizzically. “It just happened when Izumi asked me if I wanted to be friends. It was really cool! It wasn’t there before, but then it just showed up, like bam—”

“Does it hurt, Shouyou?” His mother looks him in the eyes, deadly serious.

“Nah, it didn’t even hurt when it happened. I keep forgetting it’s there,” Hinata laughs.

His mother bites her lip, traces her finger around the characters ever-so-gently.

/ * \

More words appear all over Hinata’s body as the years wear on. They’re all the same style: deep, deep black, font thin as a needle. Sometimes Hinata doesn’t even notice new ones for days on end, but he’s caught them appearing before, slow and seamless, crawling down his arms and legs. He gave up on trying to hide them after they became so widespread that hiding them was a hassle consuming every waking second.

In middle school, he gets the first tattoo that rests on the edge of his heart. _Fly_ , it reads. Hinata can’t help but trace over the pattern when he notices it that night. His fingers feel like they’re simultaneously burning and freezing his skin.

Hinata dreams, that night, of the Little Giant, of flying just like him. The tattoo on his chest thrums throughout the dream, just barely enough to be perceptible, and his chest’s restlessness grows within him throughout the next days, weeks, months.

/ * \

_Team_ is his next tattoo, just after he manages to convince the incoming first-years to give volleyball a chance. It rests on his wrist, over the veins, and pulses alongside his blood, like this team has a heart and soul of its own.

They’re going to be in a tournament. Hinata can hardly come to terms with it: after years, three years, of that _fly_ tattoo resting on his chest, a steady reminder with every beat of his heart, they’re finally here.

That’s what makes their inevitable defeat all the more crushing. But Hinata stares at his wrist, watches the word _team_ pulse with life, and decides there’s still life to his dream, just as there’s still life to this team even as it collapses.

He expects a tattoo of maybe _loss_ or _defeat_ when he gets home. There’s a new tattoo, certainly, but it also certainly doesn’t read anything like defeat. No, this new tattoo reads _king_ , and rests parallel to _fly_.

Fury rushes through Hinata’s whole being. That king— _what have you been doing for the last three years?_ —doesn’t deserve a place on his heart, doesn’t deserve to coincide by his greatest dream. The king isn’t what’s motivating him. It’s his loss, his aching will to do better. The king has no stake in it.

Hinata scratches at the tattoo until his skin peels to a fiery red. It only becomes more prominent.

/ * \

Kageyama Tobio comes to Karasuno. Anger wells up in Hinata again. He can feel the tattoo on his chest burning a hole through his clothes, and wonders if Kageyama realizes the profound impact he’s had on Hinata is literally marked on Hinata’s skin, just like all the other memories etched on his arms and legs.

The rest of the team raises their eyebrows at all the tattoos running down Hinata’s arms and legs, things like _Natsu_ , _ocean_ , _Dad_ , and _stargazing_ , but, thankfully, don’t say anything. It’s a relief to have people not push about them, for once. 

Surprisingly, Kageyama ignores them, too. He doesn’t make a single jab at them even as he makes Hinata bristle by saying that he’s not necessary to win. It's a strange lapse in his jerkish attitude that makes Hinata wonder if maybe he's not so bad, every now and then.

Kageyama tosses to him for the first time, and Hinata spikes it. When Hinata lands, he can't feel the ground under his feet. He's still caught in that overwhelming sensation of flight, of feeling the air part and ripple around him. The tattoo on his chest thrums with energy.

He looks up to Kageyama, and the grin that overtakes his face is so infectious that he swears he sees Kageyama smile back.

When they win the practice match against Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, Kageyama looks genuinely happy. The anger Hinata's been holding towards him simmers down and down. Something of a begrudging affection takes its place.

/ * \

_Invincible_ rests over the center of Hinata's heart.

Hinata stares at himself in the mirror, at the words carved in his chest. He presses his fingertips to it, pushes, as though the image will change; it doesn't.

The font and styling is still the same, but there's something more elegant to this one that Hinata can't quite place. There's a cleanness to it. An emotion somehow resting in its inscription that makes Hinata's heart skip a beat.

 _Invincible_ , he thinks, and wonders if this is the last mark Kageyama will leave on his heart.

/ * \

Kageyama eventually asks about the tattoos. It’s been a long time coming—nobody on the team has asked yet. Tsukishima does make occasional comments about how Hinata looks like a delinquent, a question resting in his eyes. But he never pushes, so Hinata never offers.

It's early in the morning, and the crisp autumn air nips at Hinata's nose, reddening it. He smells smoke from furnaces and the chill in the air. They're entering the gym when Kageyama asks.

Hinata walks into the gym and takes off his mittens, glances up at Kageyama beside him. "It's gonna sound stupid, y'know."

"Can't be any stupider than most of the stuff you say."

"Rude," Hinata whines, but it's more out of habit than anything else. "Uh, it's been happening since I was a kid, according to my mother. It's like—my most important memories get etched into my skin, for some reason. Like, my 'Natsu' tattoo is when my parents told me I was gonna have a little sister and asked me what I wanted to name her. I dunno why it happens to me, but it's kind of whatever, I guess. It doesn't hurt or anything. Just gets me a lot of weird looks and questions."

"Oh," Kageyama says, awkwardly. "Do they, like, stay forever?"

"I haven't had any disappear, so I guess so? I still have the first one I got when I was four." Hinata shrugs. He doesn't really mind Kageyama asking, he finds.

Kageyama hums noncommittally. "You wanna practice receives today?"

Hinata perks up. "Well, you know I'd always prefer tosses, but if you really, really wanna do receives, I suppose I can make those arrangements—"

Kageyama makes a grab for him, and Hinata laughs, clear in the empty gym.

/ * \

The tattoos might have been prophetic, in a way. Hinata eventually realizes he might-maybe-kind of have a crush on Kageyama. It's this little fluttering in his chest whenever he and Kageyama are together, this _yearning_ to be with him, to be ever-closer even when they are together—and it's so _embarrassing_.

Hinata starts getting these little thrills in his chest every time Kageyama praises him. His skin tingles wherever Kageyama's hand brushes against his. He feels like a schoolgirl. His heart will start beating double-time around Kageyama, and he has to keep himself so tightly in-check around Kageyama lest he let something slip.

Kageyama is with him all the time: walking to school, practice before and after school, lunch, walking home. They're practically glued together at the hip, so Hinata still wanting something _more_ , constantly, makes things difficult.

Kageyama's caught Hinata staring a bit too hard at his lips, or his hands. Wanting so bad to kiss him or hold his hand or _anything_.

Hinata is in so deep and he is such a _fool_. There really isn't any rectification to this other than confessing. Going on like this day-to-day is something that takes more willpower and restraint than Hinata could ever possibly have.

So: confessing. Well. "Confessing" is a verb, ten letters, present-tense...

He has no idea how to confess.

Well, he's never really been good at planning things out, anyway. So maybe he should just—go for it, not even bother planning, and just do what feels right? 

Deciding to wing a confession is probably not the best choice Hinata has ever made, but it's one he sticks to.

Hinata does it a few weeks later, when the first snow has fallen and covered all the grass up so the whole world twinkles in the dawn, that Hinata does it. They’re roughhousing again, usual fare on their walk to school. Hinata is in the middle of trying to shove snow down Kageyama's shirt when he sees it: Kageyama grinning, ear-to-ear, breathy laughter escaping from him.

Hinata’s heart squeezes, then swells to double the size of his chest.

He’s so enraptured in how _pretty_ Kageyama is like this, freely happy, that he spaces out as he stares at Kageyama, assault forgotten. Kageyama clears his throat, glances up to meet Hinata's gaze. “What are you—”

“I like you,” Hinata tells him before any doubts can settle in. “Like, I wanna be your boyfriend-like.” 

Kageyama flushes deeply as the wind picks up. The snow in Hinata's mittens blows away in little bits of dust. “Dumbass, you—” 

“You heard me, stupid. I want to date you and do all the gross romantic stuff people in relationships do. I want to hold your hand and kiss you and—”

Kageyama’s face is painfully red. “Me too,” he manages, interrupting Hinata halfway through his sentence. “All of that stuff.” He tugs at his scarf self-consciously, looking at anything but Hinata.

“No, c’mon, you gotta tell me you like me, too!” Hinata whines. “It’s not fair if I’m the only one who says it, and I wanna hear it, too—”

“I like you,” Kageyama says, staring at his feet, so quiet the wind almost picks it up and carries it far, far away. But it doesn’t; instead, it travels straight into Hinata’s chest, and kindles something of a fire within him that even the strongest wind couldn't extinguish.

“There you go,” Hinata returns, just as quiet. His smile is tiny but true, and Kageyama matches it. “Do you mind if I—ah. Can I kiss you?” 

Kageyama’s head jerks up abruptly, surprise in his eyes, but also something else Hinata can't quite name. He nods. Hinata leans up ever so quick and silent and pecks Kageyama on his cheek. It’s cold, yet with the lingering warmth of his blush, it becomes this oxymoron of temperature. Hinata wants to experience it again and again and again. 

Kissing Kageyama was nothing special, Hinata has to admit. At the same time, there was something wonderful in the experience. Something in the way Kageyama’s blush returned with a vengeance after the kiss, even such a chaste one, and something beautiful in being able to just be so _close_ to Kageyama. 

He stares at Kageyama practically the entire walk to school, memory flaring in his chest, until Kageyama relents and lets Hinata give him another peck. (It was even colder, that time, but still just as achingly nice, like resting after a hard day’s work. Hinata’s whole being thrums with contentedness.)

That night, he finds the word _snowbank_ carved into his chest, a bridge between _fly_ and _king_. The moonlight spills over the words, gentle and unassuming, like it’s giving its blessing.

/ * \

Deep into the night, when the stars alone are leaking their light into the sky, the two of them are getting ready for bed. Kageyama is sleeping over at Hinata’s house on a whim. It makes Hinata feel giddy with happiness, like a little kid. Under the lamplight, as Hinata is finishing changing into his pajamas, Kageyama catches sight of Hinata's chest.

"Hinata," he flusters. "You—"

"What? What's the matter?" Hinata asks him, turning his gaze towards Kageyama. Kageyama blinks owlishly at him. Hinata's lips quirk into a smile at how cute it is.

Kageyama rises off Hinata's bed and walks slowly towards him, hand reaching out to Hinata's chest. He almost reverently, places the tips of his fingers over Hinata's heart. _Invincible_.

His eyes flicker to the left, and as he notices the word _king_ there, too, his face turns unreadable. His fingers trace the lines of _invincible_ , then _king_ , then up to _snowbank_ , like he’s just noticed it. The touch is soft, as though he's reassuring himself that they're real. Hinata's chest burns hot until Kageyama drops his hand.

"You're important to me, stupid," Hinata tells him. "Did you not expect that?"

Kageyama shakes his head wordlessly.

"Well, you should've." Hinata smiles at him, tossing his shirt into the laundry basket and pulling another one over his head. "I'd be right there on your chest, too, if you were like me."

"You would be," Kageyama says softly, vulnerably. Something in Hinata's chest stirs, then settles: an enrapturing, encapsulating sense of security that kindles in his chest just right.

**Author's Note:**

> credit to my sweetheart [robin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luciferTM/pseuds/luciferTM) for betaing!
> 
> thank you so much for reading! please feel free to comment with concrit or otherwise—i appreciate it a ton!
> 
> i'm on twitter [@hhatsunetsu](https://twitter.com/hhatsunetsu) if you'd like to hmu!


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